


Parrish Doesn't Party

by themidnightbagel



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, M/M, Sharing a Bed, casual touches, college party, college student Adam, post- the raven king, so much self indulgent sweet touching, surprise visit, too much fluff that's all this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 03:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15015704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themidnightbagel/pseuds/themidnightbagel
Summary: “What are you doing here?” Adam asked, mind still reeling, eyes still taking in his buzzed head, blue eyes, leather jacket, leather wristbands, roughed up jeans, and clunky boots—the amalgam of physicalities that culminated in Ronan Lynch.  Ronan Lynch, here at this dumb college party, without any warning.(Or: the one in which Adam Parrish attends his first college party, and unbeknownst to him, so does Ronan Lynch.)





	Parrish Doesn't Party

**Author's Note:**

> so my adoration of Adam Parrish and Ronan Lynch has probably reached an unhealthy level, and after all these years I've decided to finally write my first fic for them! I'm more than aware of how self-indulgent this is at times but you know what we're rolling with it because all these boys deserve is happiness so that's what I'm giving them.

Adam Parrish was not what one would call a social butterfly. Blue teased him that maybe all he needed was to start fresh at college, then he’d become the party animal he was always meant to be. That was not the case. Not to say he had no friends; Adam had scraped together a small group of people he could rely on to go get a coffee and study with, or bounce ideas off of for a project, or in this case, get dragged to a party with. Tim, his friend from Bio, had begged him to just humor him for once and come to a party tonight. Adam was pretty ahead on his homework plans for the weekend, and in the interest of seeming like he actually valued Tim’s friendship, he agreed. Now, with Tim having abandoned him less than five minutes after arriving, leaving him alone, bored, and annoyed, he decided that yes, he hated college parties just as much as he thought he would. 

Adam was leaning against a wall in the living room—he’d somehow managed to find a small area that wasn’t teeming with sweaty drunk bodies—nursing a watered down cup of what Tim called “jungle juice”, which had been handed to him as soon as he walked in the door, when another body settled in next to him. The only lights in the room were precariously placed lava lamps and dim lamps, not leaving much to be garnered in the way of sight, so Adam didn’t even bother turning his head to get a read on his new neighbor. 

The music was obnoxiously loud as well, so it was only due to the fact that he had come in on Adam’s good side that he managed to hear the man ask him, in an obvious attempt at make their voice lower, “Hey, come here often?”

Adam stiffened, he really wasn’t in the mood tonight to fend off some drunk guy who thought he was cute—especially one who used such a lame pick-up line and thought that voice would get him laid. Holding back a scoff, he replied, bluntly, “I’m taken.”

At that, the man barked out a laugh, surprising Adam and causing him to finally look over. Then back straight ahead. Then over again. Because, unthinkably, impossibly, the man who had slid next to him on the wall was exactly the one who he was taken by. Ronan Lynch. 

“What are you doing here?” Adam asked, mind still reeling, eyes still taking in his buzzed head, blue eyes, leather jacket, leather wristbands, roughed up jeans, and clunky boots—the amalgam of physicalities that culminated in Ronan Lynch. Ronan Lynch, here at this dumb college party, without any warning.

Ronan knocked his shoulder against Adam’s as a smirk danced across his face, “Oh, I was around”.

Adam’s college was a few hours drive away from the Barns so he knew there was a close to zero chance that Ronan was just “around”. He shot Ronan a look that told him as much.

Ronan smiled even larger, a wild, feral thing, and leaned in further to press their shoulders into one another, his touch as much of a “hello” as anything else Adam would get. He plucked Adam’s drink out of his hand, took a sip, promptly made a face and deposited it onto the nearest table. Pushing himself off the wall, he took Adam’s now free hand in his own and said, “Wanna get out of here? No offense Parrish but this place blows.”

Adam, still a bit dazed at how this night was quickly taking a turn—for the better—simply nodded, and let Ronan lead him out the door, quickly shooting off a text to Tim saying he was leaving but thanks for inviting him. As they walked down the beer can littered street, Adam leaned into Ronan, content to simply feel his presence next to him for the time being. Touch came first, talking could come later. Ronan released Adam’s hand so he could snake his arm around Adam’s waist. Adam relaxed against his side as they made their way back to his dorm parking lot. The BMW sat nearby, looking sharp and beautiful, much like its owner.

Ronan didn’t even have to ask, just slightly angled his body towards it and Adam followed, because of course they were going on a drive. The night was surprisingly warm for October, and the sky was clear. Adam extracted himself from Ronan and hopped in the passenger’s seat while Ronan settled into the driver’s. He peeled out of the parking lot and onto the road with much more flourish than was necessary, slamming through the gears like his life depended on it. It did, once. 

Eventually once they arrived at a more-or-less constant speed, Ronan’s hand lay stable on the gear shift. Adam reached over and began to idly play with it, flipping it over to run his fingers across the palm and tug at his leather bands. Finally settling with a loose hold on his wrist, able to feel the steady thrum of Ronan’s pulse—which centered him more than he was likely to admit—he lay his head back against the seat and asked, “Okay, so actually why are you here?”

Ronan shot him a quick look, eyes meeting for a second before Ronan’s turned again to the road, and replied, “Fuck, I can’t just want to visit my boyfriend?”

Huffing out a laugh, Adam said, “I didn’t say that, Lynch. I just really wasn’t expecting you to casually show up at some stupid party I almost didn’t go to in the first place. Speaking of, how did you even know where I was? Did you secretly put one of those GPS trackers for dogs on me or something?”

This time it was Ronan’s turn to laugh, accompanied by a glimmering smile, one that quickly turned roguish as he said, “Of course not, please, have some faith in me. I just followed my Parrish Senses and they lead me right to you.”

“Your “Parrish Senses”. Right,” Adam deadpanned, rolling his eyes.

**Earlier that night – Ronan POV**

Trudging up the dirty staircase that lead to Adam’s dorm, passing hordes of people going out on this Friday night, sneering at a few who seemed a little too interested in his presence, Ronan continually had to remind himself that this would all be worth it just to see Adam’s face—a face he hadn’t seen in far too long—when he opened his door to see Ronan standing there. He was hoping for a healthy mix of surprise and happiness, he could already see Adam’s cheeks begin to redden underneath his freckles, eyes crinkled in confusion, and his hair most likely a dusty disarray atop his head.

Finally arriving at his dorm room, he knocked, and the door opened to reveal Steve, Adam’s roommate. He was fine, offensively boring if you asked Ronan, but Adam said he was “nice”. Ronan planted his hand on the door to open it wider as he peaked his head into what looked to be an ostensibly empty dorm room. Fuck.

“Where’s Parrish?” Ronan directed at Steve.

Steve, avoiding direct eye contact, answered, “Out.”

This kid had to be fucking with him. “You’re telling me Adam Parrish is ‘out’?”

Steve nodded.

“Okay Sean,”—now he knew he was just being an ass by saying the wrong name, but he was tired, annoyed, and pissed that his grand plan had fallen to the wayside—“where the fuck is he ‘out’ to?”

“Um, he went to some house-party with Tim tonight not too long ago. He asked if I wanted to go but I didn’t so. Now I’m here. And Adam, uh, isn’t. I can give you the address to the place if you want,” Steve stammered back. That was the most Ronan had ever heard him speak; the only other time he had visited, Steve had given a quick hello then ducked out.

Ronan gave a smile pit-vipers would be proud of, “I would love that address.”

Steve nodded again and scribbled it down on a piece of notebook paper, which Ronan quickly snatched as he turned on his heel to head out the door. Adam Parrish attending a house party huh, the one thing he swore up and down to Ronan he would never do. The one thing that without a doubt Adam will hate, because Ronan would hate it too. However, he couldn’t help but picture Adam’s face under the cheap low lights that populate these things: a little sweaty, a lot golden, cheekbones striking amidst the shadows, blue eyes locked onto his own. His breath caught, and he almost stumbled. There’s no other place Ronan would rather rescue him from.

**Present- Adam POV**

Ronan’s voice lowered slightly in volume, always a sign that what he was about to say was meant for Adam only, even if they were the only two in the car.

“Look, I just missed you Parrish, alright?”

Adam unclasped himself from Ronan’s wrist and picked up that hand to place it on his own cheek, leaning in as he said, “Yeah, I missed you too, Ronan. A lot.” 

Ronan’s fingers tightened against Adam’s cheek, and he saw the corners of his mouth quirk up before he lifted his hand away to shift gears again.

A beat later, Adam said, “I hate parties.”

“Why were you at that fucking thing anyway? I could have told you that parties aren’t your scene, you didn’t have to dive in and find out yourself,” Ronan responded.

Bristling slightly, Adam bit back, “Well, for one, just because I think I’m going to hate something something doesn’t mean I should never give it a shot. Take becoming friends with you for instance"—Ronan snorted—"and speaking of friends, my friend Tim really wanted me to come to this party, so I thought if I’m going to have any hope of keeping some people around at this place, I might as well go.”

“So where was Tim when I showed up, when you were sitting looking like a loser alone on the wall?” Ronan retorted without any heat.

Adam gave him a withering look, and Ronan amended, “Looking like a really hot loser alone on the wall.”

“Asshole.”

Ronan merely grinned.

A couple perfunctory questions—“How’re classes going?” “Difficult at times, but fine.” “How’s Opal doing?” “Difficult at times, but fine”—and bad electronic songs later, Adam had his head leaned against the window, eyes closed and threatening to doze off. Ronan noticed and made the executive decision that it was time to return to the dorm, a decision Adam was in no shape to object to.

***

Steve was already sound asleep in his bed when they finally made their way into Adam’s room, the clock on his desk blinking a harsh 3:07 A.M. back at them. Adam didn’t want to wake him so he kept the lights off; they weren’t super close by any means but he was nice to Adam and tolerated Ronan which was more than he could ask from most people. Adam should have known his attempt at being a good roommate couldn’t succeed. As Ronan trailed after Adam, he tripped over a pair of Steve’s shoes on the floor, complete with a loud yell of “ Jesus shit Mary fuck!” and the sound of his rather large body crashing to the floor.

Steve bolted up in bed as Adam struggled to keep his laughter in check and Ronan kept muttering curses under his breath while violently kicking the shoes out of his way. Adam held out his hand to Ronan, who begrudgingly took it to pull himself up. Looking over to Steve he attempted to placate by saying, “Hey, so sorry about the noise, it’s just me and Ronan don’t worry about it.”

Steve gave them both a lazy nod and turned back over in his bed. Adam leaned over to Ronan and whispered, “Are you okay? Got any booboo’s that I need to kiss and make better?” Ronan simply responded with a glare and a middle finger.

He kicked off his shoes, jacket, and pants, sliding under the covers as Ronan did the same. He felt Ronan curl himself around Adam’s back, pushing his nose against the nape of Adam’s neck as his arm reached for Adam’s hand. Ronan’s hand grasped tight in his slender, rough one, Adam brought it to his mouth, brushing Ronan’s knuckles over his lips. 

Ronan had a peculiar fascination with Adam’s hands, but he thought Ronan’s were just as deserving of praise. Calloused like Adam’s but his callouses told a completely different story. One of thrown punches, grasping—bottles, gear shifts, dreams—and scabs that had been picked off, re-scabbed, and picked again. One of tender touches, cradling—Adam, Chainsaw, Opal—and scars that had been kissed, re-claimed, and kissed again.

Adam slowly pried Ronan’s arm off of him so he could roll over and face him. Dark blue eyes flickered across his face as he moved closer and buried it into the junction of Ronan’s neck and collarbone. Adam let himself just breathe Ronan in for a few moments, his hand coming up to stroke through Adam’s tangled dust mop of hair. He moved his face away and up, to rest his forehead against Ronan’s. 

Looking at each other, they both bore a comfortable smile, and Adam leaned in to nuzzle his nose against Ronan’s cheek as he quietly asked Adam, “So, do you invite all the guys you meet at parties to your bed on the first date?”

Adam pulled his head back and attempted to kick Ronan with a muffled “Jesus, would you shut up”. However, with Ronan kicking him back, their legs ended up inextricably tangled together. By the grin on Ronan’s face, Adam figured this was his goal all along, and Adam smiled in kind. 

This, effortless exchanges that ran with an undercurrent of adoration throughout, was what comprised Adam and Ronan’s relationship. Every touch, glance, and raised middle finger was a conversation between the two of them that conveyed more than they ever could out loud. This was why every time Adam spoke to Ronan on the phone—which was surprisingly more than one might expect with this Lynch—he yearned to be with Ronan in person, to lean against his solid side, to feel him loop a finger through one of Adam’s belt loops to keep him close, to trace the striking claws and beak adorning his back.

Ronan pushed his forehead against Adam’s again, laid his hands on Adam’s cheeks, and leaned in to press their lips together. Gently, not because he was afraid Adam would break, but because he was precious with all those he cared most for. 

Adam leaned in further as he murmured against his lips, “I missed you so much, Ronan”.

He felt Ronan smile, almost wide enough so that Adam could feel Ronan’s teeth under his own, “You already said that, Parrish.”

“I know,” Adam said as he lightly turned Ronan over onto his back so he could trail his mouth down Ronan’s jaw and press open mouthed kisses on the tattoo that curled its way along the sides of his neck, letting his teeth barely scrape the skin. Ronan arched his neck as his hands left Adam’s face, and took purchase in his hair. As soon as Ronan made a soft moan, Steve’s bed came into Adam’s peripheral view and he remembered—as much as he’d like to imagine they were—they were not alone in this room. Adam lifted his head, and Ronan’s gaze followed his, mouth turned down into a slight frown.

“What, we’re not gonna give Steve a free show tonight?”

“I’m afraid not,” Adam responded, kissing Ronan on the lips one last time before laying his head down onto Ronan’s chest, once again feeling tethered to the present by Ronan’s strong heartbeat, the threat of being lost to his own mind gone.

“Hey,” Ronan began, bringing Adam back from the brink of sleep, “next time I try and be cute or some shit and come up to surprise you, just try and actually be here okay? I’m not gonna track you down every time.”

Adam smiled against Ronan’s black t-shirt at the words “next time” and lazily hummed; he knew that Ronan would in fact track him down every time, any time, any place, no matter what. But he let Ronan have his bravado, because they both knew that’s all it was.

Ronan sighed and said quieter, bringing his head down to Adam’s good ear, “I missed you too, Adam. God, I missed you.”

Adam lowered his voice in an attempt to mimic Ronan from earlier, “You already said that, Lynch.”

Ronan barked out as quiet of a laugh as he could, “Ah, so the magician thinks he’s a comedian now? Hilarious. Jesus, it’s late, go to sleep.”

Ronan’s hand, which had up until this point loosely brushing through Adam’s hair, stilled and moved away, replaced by the soft brush of his lips to the top of his head. Adam tightened his hold around Ronan, and in that moment, he felt a bit like Cabeswater. The Greywaren had asked something of him—that he sleep—and he acquiesced. He felt like Cabeswater for a separate reason as well. Adam and Cabeswater both harbored a profound love for this strange creature, who gave them both life, and who in turn, they taught how to live.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!! Adam and Ronan have been through so much that sometimes we just need them being cute and stupid in love. <3


End file.
